Battle for the Deva
With the crushing defeat at the Kabal mine, the Imperials had a strong supply of Feyrock to use on magic. This forced the Royalists to try other measures. They had heard word of a Deva nearby. A construct of Fey origin who could channel massive energy and who could cast magics that could devastate the Imperial forces. With this information, a scouting force was gathered and sent from Versano. The Tale Year 335AT Location: Versano The deliberations in King Rendon's war room had gone on all day. The cessation from the Empire had gone from being a matter of skirmishes to all-out war. It was taxing people from both sides. An end had to be found soon. A lone scout interrupts the latest meeting, a planning session regarding a possible strike on an Imperial outpost. "Excuse me sire..." King Rendon looks up, as the rest of the council continues their deliberation. "We found it... it exists." The members of the war council look up, now in rapt attention. "A Deva, uncontrolled. If we move fast, we can acquire it. But we have to move fast, an Imperial scout was seen in the area." The King nods, indicating to one of the generals, who leaves with the scout. "A Deva.... With that power at our command, we could end this war once and for all.... gentlemen, we have a new possible target... Arlessa." As the King’s men reach the hilltop and set up camp for the night, a few scouts returned to the king’s tent to deliver their sightings. The leader of the group being Camserech, stepped forward into the tent and stuttered under the spotlight cast upon him as the tent fell silent awaiting his report. “Sire, it appears that the imperial forces have set up an encampment at the other side of the pass, it seems they seek the Deva as well.” “Then we have less time than we thought, rouse the men, we must make haste toward that shrine!” As the scouts of the King slid from the camp into the cover of the falling sun, the Imperial camp was ablaze with activity. “Get your weapons! Don your armour, move it you sorry excuses for soldiers!” barked Lord Wulfric, a seasoned commander and vicious knight. Men rushed from tent to tent as they gathered their equipment and fell into line, sorting out ranks between them as the scouts prepared to leave. Lord Wulfric turned and gave but a simple nod to Brenner, the bounty hunter, and the shadowy figure disappeared in a flurry of purple cape and black war-paint, trailing his two blades as he flew off toward the shrine followed by a large unit of skirmishers. Meanwhile on the other side of the river, Elyssia, the Deva sat at the shrine admiring the shimmering reflection of the moons lights as it danced upon the surface of the shrines pool. Suddenly she felt the rush of cloaks, the sound of blades whirling through the air and a hand grab her arm as Brenner hoisted the Deva up to her feet and rushed her away from the shrine, as they stepped off the ground there was a blast of people the other way, she turned to see a fast and furious clash occurring between two groups of solders. Arrows whizzed overhead as Brenner tried to outrun the perusing royalists, However Elyssia could not match his blistering speed and thus he knew he had to make a stand. At the shrine, Trinovantes, Little Hilga, Kukaiitaku, and Friar Tuck were trying to fend off a group of skilled royalist rogues and rangers as they attempted to push past and get to the deva. Trinovantes pinned a royalist to his shield with a perfect shot as Kukalitaku circled and dropped the foe before dodging a counter- attack from another soldier, narrowly missing his ear. In his retreat after killing another scout, Friar Tuck tripped and stumbled to the ground, scrambling to regain his feet; he was saved by a swift shot from Trinovantes and helped to his feet by Kukalitaku. The extraction was nearly complete without a hitch until the royalist reinforcements arrived. Bur Thromordar, a knight clad from head to toe in dark plate with glimmering gold edges stormed through the shrine and gave chase to the imperialists as they cried for reinforcements. Ulrik Biekwicz, a fierce warrior from Provall heard that call first and charged headlong into both Bur and Lord Beric DeSaron, All three clashed hard and landed in a twisted pile of metal and limbs as each tried to wrestle with not only each other but their armour. Bur regained his feet and began to attack all those who stood in his way as he focused on the deva. Swiftly, from behind he received a chop to the back of the legs from a passing serf from the imperial forces, Sid the Black. As the fight progressed the Imperial numbers began to wane, the King saw that he was near to getting the Deva in his possession, and with her on his side, they would destroy the imperial city of Arlessa! He sent one of his highest trained footmen, Felix Vernold the 7th to attempt to break the enemy lines and cut their swelling numbers. As the masses swarmed heavily around the deva, a whirl of arrows, axes, blades and magic of every kind covering the ground in corpses and blood as they dropped like peasants with the plague. Royalists Lord Beric DeSaron and Lolin from Theron found themselves fighting off Varil Korr and Cardeo Navarn as the battle encircled them. Cardeo lunged forward, his coif sliding forward enough to cover his eyes as he snapped backward as fast as he could, but as fast as he was, Iolin was faster, the skirmisher cutting the footman down before he could fix his sight. Lord Wulfric saw this and instantly enraged, barrelling towards the scout with blade twirling overhead, the massive amounts of steel moving at an impossible pace. Lord Beric DeSaron stood in front of Iolin, lowering his halberd ready to lunge at Lord Wulfric should he continue his course, but the seasoned fighter was not so easily defeated, pushing the halberd aside with a rough stroke of his shield he cut through Beric with one powerful slice. But all his best efforts had been in vein, the Imperial forces he led had not succeeded in defeating the ferocity in which the Royalist armies attacked. The losses were heavy, but the Imperials needed to retreat if they were to defend their city. The order was given and the dead were taken back with the wounded to the city as they prepared for what would be the defence of Arlessa… “Go forth for the Court of Four!” ran the cry, as the Royalist line ran forward, charging towards the hastily forming lines of the Imperials. Gregor wished he himself could charge forward with them, feeling much better from the infliction he suffered 5 months prior, in the Kabal mine. Yet, he knew his duty, and waited for the men to bring back the deva and any wounded that he would need to heal. Sure enough, as his men captured the deva and started to bring her back, the wounded came ahead of them, asking to be healed so they could fight again. “I, as a priest of the court of four, ask you to hear my call! Asha, grant mercy...” Gregor continued his chant as men and women continued to flock to him and the only other cleric they had, Able, and taxed their skills to bring the mortally wounded back to full strength and fight again. At the same time, they tried to get the deva back into their camp, yet the Imperialists came far too often, too many of them. “We must hold here!” a Royalist sergeant cried out, and a runner was sent back to their camp to ask for reinforcements. The ground before them turned into a swamp of dead men and blood yet somehow, they managed to hold out...but it seemed that it could not last. There soon became only a handful of them left, and a final charge of the Imperials came at them, one or two of them falling to the last of the arrows the Royalists had, and the lines clashed once more. They fought valiantly, but it seemed that it was finally finished, men either falling down wounded or dead and the same man who knocked Gregor out in the mine approached him and managed to knock the sword out of his hand. He swept Gregor’s leg from beneath him. As Gregor lay there on the ground, the other man drew a dagger and cut off Gregor’s ear, saying “And I shall now claim my bounty”. He then raised his arm, ready to bring Gregor’s death, but an arrow flew through his arm and he fell to the side, cringing in pain. Gregor looked up and saw that reinforcements had finally arrived, men on horseback either charging down the fleeing Imperials or finding wounded and dead to bring back to camp. He stood up and was soon brought a horse, and he rode back with the victors of this battle, a bandage around his head and the sun rising behind them. It was now noon, and the Royalist camp seemed serene compared to the activity of the previous night. Men sat around fires singing war songs and drinking wine, and even a lucky few of them were in their tents with a camp follower or two, and you could hear their voices cry out as they continued their carnal activity. “There you go. With a little bit of time and some magical healing, it should stay attached.” said one of the healers as they finished stitching Gregor’s ear back on, smiling all in the meantime. Gregor sat on his bed drinking some wine to help dull the pain. Just as he felt he could relax, a voice outside his tent shouted “Mi’lord Gregor Kalevala, you have been summoned by the King!” Gregor knew he had to respond, and walked out and followed the runner, though he knew where the command tent was. As he walked he could see the smoke rising where the dead were being burned in their burial rites, he himself one of the priests overseeing their funeral only an hour ago. He was surprised to see that they were not approaching the command tent as he first thought, but towards the pyres where he could see the King, but also the deva overlooking the flames. With the battle actually over, he finally was able to look at the deva in proper detail, and though he knew that it was not a natural creature, but a fey creation, he thought she was beautiful. He finally reached both of them and knelt saying “Mi’lord King! And fair lady” “Rise, and listen to my command” the King responded, both of them following tradition that had been laid down for centuries. Gregor himself stood up straight, looking the King straight in the eye. “This deva, Elyssia informs me that we can destroy the capital of the Imperialists and win this war once and for all! However, she will need our help to do so...” he trailed off as the Deva approached Gregor, looking him up and down as if examining him. “I need rituals of binding to be done on five nodes of power near the capital, with an incantation I shall share with you now” to which she leaned in Gregor’s newly stitched on ear, whispering a spell that seemed to burn itself into Gregor’s brain, and he knew he would not forget it for as long as he lived. As she pulled away, he no longer felt the stiches holding his ear and he felt there, noticing his ear was fully healed. “As Mi’lord commands” Gregor bowed, and walked off, knowing much of was needed to be prepared. It was nightfall once more before they managed to reach the outskirts of Arlessa, camping amongst the hills. The force was a small one, as this was supposed to be a stealth mission more than a full battle. Gregor looked at his men and started to tell them what was needed to be done. Just as he finished explaining what would happen if they should succeed, he saw and heard a commotion near their stable, and a figure rode off in the night, towards the capital. “A spy!” voices cried out, and men made ready to go chase them. “Leave him! We shall never capture him in the dark...we must now work quickly to bind these nodes!” Gregor shouted back, and men rushed off to capture the nodes, so that their work could be done. Soon, the sounds of battle could be heard, as men rushed to capture the nodes, the magical wielders amongst them attempting to bind them. Gregor had given the order that once the node had been bound that a flaming arrow was to be shot into the night sky. Almost immediately an arrow was shot into the air, just as Gregor was binding another node. He finished as another arrow was in the sky, and he ordered his archer to let fire. However, no other arrows came up in the night sky, and he had a feeling that they never would. “Elyssia! Can you do anything with just three nodes?” Gregor asked, and saw that armed Imperialists were advancing towards his node, and he knew they wouldn’t be able to hold them off. “Perhaps destroy a portion of the city, but we must hold out, only with five will victory be granted to you!” "We don’t have time to wait!” Gregor shouted, and as if to be proven correct an arrow nearly hit the Deva in the head. She then closed her eyes and chanted with words that were too fast for Gregor to follow. She began to glow and the ground shook all around them. In the distance, the city began to catch fire, and buildings collapsed and screams could be heard the citizens cried out in fear. The Imperialists, confused as to what was happening, fell back to their city and Gregor knew they also had to withdraw. “Fall back!” he cried and he saw the majority of his men running back into the hills. He saw the Deva instead collecting relics from inside the ruins they were in, and did not seem inclined to run away. “My lady, we must fall back while we can, or else we shall be destroyed!” “You can leave then, but I must claim take these relics before they can destroy them!” She snapped back, her anger rising. Gregor then called for a pack horse, and packed as many relics as he could in there, though he could see the Imperials coming from the distance, angry shouts and cries of revenge clear to be heard. “I’m sorry for this my lady, but we must go” he said, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her away, knowing full well that those ruins would be completely destroyed as revenge for what happened. Elyssia whispered a chant and flicked her hand towards the ruins and it seemed as if the earth rose up around it, and the ruin then turned into a hill, unable to be found unless you knew where it was. They then ran off, back towards their camp, which was packed and ready to leave, and they then all left for their main camp, knowing that today was not a defeat, but not a victory either. The sun had risen once more by the time they had made it back to the main camp, and they were greeted warmly, since the mission was a success in a pinch. The men of Gregor’s group went back to their tents, and Gregor was of like mind, but he knew it was not to be so as a messenger approached him, telling him the King wanted to see him. He followed the messenger to the command tent, and saw it was full of men once he was inside. As Gregor bowed, he heard the King say “Leave us” and the men and women surrounding the planning table left. Gregor still kept his head down, waiting for the command that he could rise. Instead, he felt a hand on his shoulder and was pulled up and put into an embrace “Come now cousin, there is no need for such ceremonies when alone!” King Rendon smiled at Gregor. “No, I guess not...sorry I failed you” Gregor replied, looking down in shame. “Nay, you managed to destroy part of Arlessa, something none of us have achieved anything like that since this war began, be proud of yourself” Rendon quickly responded, grabbing a goblet of wine and giving it to Gregor. “But we could have ended this war with a single stroke!” “And now the Imperials will need time to recover, and they shall now fear us...besides, I already have another plan of how to end the war...” The imperial forces put up a valiant defence in the face of great odds, denying the king of total victory, yet a large part of Arlessa, shining jewel of the Empire was badly damaged. The deva left with the retreating forces as they trailed into the hills, defeated yet not totally lost. A brave fight was made by all, as the battlefield fell silent once more, the burning wrecks of the outer city filled the sky as the imperials mobilised to create a forward camp and plan their next move…